Highland Fling - with a double shot of hills and extra sand

I’ve raced the Highland Fling for the past four years, and every year I feel my training and lead up is sub-optimal. Sometimes it’s just that I’ve been unmotivated and out of training over winter, but last year it was coming back from the initial injuries of the car incident and this year… well this year saw me placed in the Emergency Department for prime spring mountain bike season. This means 24/7 shift rostering so by the time I requested race weekends off I pretty much had to deal with the rest of the roster.

So this year my lead into the Fling involved 2 weeks of night shift, hats off to people who shift work all the time and still get optimal training in but for me it seems a little a tough. I did keep ride, I did still commute to night shift by bike (40-60km depending on route) at least every second shift but I felt that my training lacked intensity and motivation was hard to come by.

So with my body still in a random time zone we set off for Bundanoon for what is the toughest marathon event of the NSW calendar. The weather was forecast to be sunny and mid-20s and even as the bagpiper heralded sunrise the temperature was mild.

Race briefing alerted us that a few new section of single track had been included, but did not mention the major course changes which were to mentally test me for the next six and half hours.  We set off and, as usual, I had a crap start. Maybe I should try this warm-up business but I never seem to be organised or motivated enough to work it out.

Wendy Stevenson had given me the low down on the female field, before she lined up as one of only two women in the 100mile event! Apparently Briony Mattocks from the open category was the one to watch. Well, she sailed passed me a few minutes in and wished me a good ride.

After 15 minutes of being passed by beer bellies stuffed into lycra, my legs started to warm up and I found something of a rhythm – just in time for the first creek crossing which came right up to my knicks and filled my shoes with sand and water.

I slowly started passing a few people and soon passed Briony again before passing Wendy and Larri with Wendy letting me know there were no other females ahead of me on the road.

Before the going got tough!

It was around this point that I started feeling the course was unfamiliar, we seemed climbing more and grovelling up some steep pinches which I surely would have remembered. I asked the guys around me and the consensus seemed to be that the course had changed a lot. This was confirmed as we entered some newly cut single track, which was sandy and rough – that was a theme for the day. A new creek crossing appeared and the feed station didn’t appear where I normally would expect it, based on time and distance.

Reaching feed station one for the first time, I had a good 10 minutes and several kilometres extra on the clock compared to the previous year. I figured that must be to account for lost distance later in the course, and I grabbed my camelback and a new bottle and headed out on stage 2.

Hurting mentally

By this stage there were a few guys that I kept playing leap frog with and we worked a little on the fireroad before a short section of singletrack and some hills saw the group fall apart. At this point the time and numbers started playing games with head, more sections of singletrack saw my average speed fall and I soon realised that my estimated finish time of around 5.5 hours was not going to happen.

This started to really play on my mind, not helped by the fact the elite girls came flying past (having started 15 minutes behind us) after under 2 hours ride time on my Garmin. I figured I was having a pretty bad day on the bike and just tried to tick those kilometres off.

The trouble was that the kilometres seemed to tick over painfully slowly. The half way feed station just never seemed to appear, and the dreaded half way hill still hadn’t appeared at the 55km point. I had this insane thought that maybe halfway hill had been taken out in the course revision.

At one point we hit a new piece of single track, steep and bermed down a fern covered hill side – that put a smile on dial for a few seconds but soon the demons returned and I started thinking about Tim up ahead with legs super strong from just doing the Croc Trophy. I imagined him finishing strongly and waiting for me at my expected finish time, wondering what mechanical had waylaid me.

Finally the mid-point feed station appeared, and a sign letting us know we were half way. That was demoralising, so much slower than previous years and I was struggling and I still had the hardest stuff to go.

Then halfway hill, this year around the 60km point in the race and we continued straight at the top to lose all the height again and climb another bastard hill after that. At this point it was getting hot in the sun too, tired people covered in dust just grovelling up this hill in pain.

Finally I hit the road which leads back to Wingello, my elapsed time was horrific. I was seriously considering pulling the pin at Wingello as I teamed up with a bloke I’d been seeing all race to ride the road section in the wind. Unfortunately he didn’t have the legs to pull a turn into the wind, and once we turned the corner into the more sheltered section I didn’t have the legs to sit on his wheel but somehow we made it to outskirts of Wingello.

At that point, Briony Mattocks came steaming past in a train of about 7 riders. Talk about nail in the coffin.

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That feed station stop was somewhat disorganised, and I wasted almost 2 minutes of race time as I phaffed around. In the end I rolled out over the timing back with a fresh bottle, leaving my empty camelback behind. I did seriously consider the sealed road back to Bundanoon – especially knowing what was to come – but somehow I rolled out onto the final stage. Briony was out of sight up the road and I was riding alone.

Again the course was completely different, new sections of sandy track through the local golf course replaced some of the sections familiar from the previous 3 years as we left Wingello before we had sections of familiar track reappeared.

The last 20km of the course is tough, every year I get cramps in this section even though I never cramp in any other event. Sure enough I steep fire trail hill brought on the familiar feeling in my left adducters, twitch, twitch and then spasm! This was earlier than in previous years and my mood sank even lower as I walked up the hill.

Hurting in the single track

Finally I entered the familiar singletrack of Boundary Rider, at this point still hoping that the cramp-inducing section of Rollercoaster had been omitted in the course changes. No such luck! With over 100km already on the Garmin I walked the steeper pinches in an attempt to avoid the cramps.

A few more cramp episodes necessitated walking before I entered the last section of singletrack, passing the odd half-flinger every now and again. In addition to my cramps my left wrist was now getting really sore, a legacy of 3 surgeries following the car incident, I just wished that singletrack would end.

After making it up Brokeback Mountain without cramping I just kept the bike moving through the singletrack, and finally it seemed to be coming to an end… and … I glimpsed Briony ahead just exiting onto the firetrail.

Coming out onto the firetrail behind her I wondered if she was going to try and sit on my wheel if I passed, I knew if I had to put in any real effort I would be incapacitated by cramps. As I caught her she looked over and congratulated me, I sign that she had nothing left as I tried to look fresh riding past.

broken.com

The next jersey up the road was the Croc Trophy kit, I tried to work out who I could have caught from the Croc Team and soon the answer was clear. Martin Wisata was paying the price for pulling some turn on an elite bunch early in the race and I soon passed him knowing I was finally on the home straight.

Hitting the sealed road I put in max effort allowed by my weary legs, still wary of Briony behind – especially if she got in another train of riders. Then finally it was left through the paddock and down the bumpy hill before the sounds of the event centre could be heard and the 500m to go sign was the most welcome thing ever.

There was Tim, already finished like had imagined, but instead of looking as fresh as a daisy he was covered in dirt and broken. “Tougher than a Croc stage” he groaned “I cramped and I never even cramped once at the Croc”.

Broken at the finish - hair and make up by #dustytrailsartist

So after hours of mental torture believing I was riding like crap I finally started to believe that it wasn’t actually me. I had an extra 10km on my Garmin compared to previous years and it seemed everyone around me had added at least half an hour to their times.

Mentally I think it’s the toughest marathon I’ve ever done, I can’t say I really enjoyed the day even though I’m retrospectively happy with my results (6^th female, 1^st in category, 1^st non-elite female). So much of how tough the day was psychological, yes it was a very tough race physically – but for me the toughest game was in my head. I’m definitely glad now I didn’t pull the pin at Wingello, but that decision was harder than any hill on course.

Before I sign off, a special mention to Wendy who was the ONLY female finisher of what would have been the toughest 100mile Fling ever run. You’re tougher than me Wendy, another loop of stage 2 would have seen me in tears – congratulations on your superhuman effort. 

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